Yeah
Yeah
Yeah!
Yeah! We keep it hood
Uh-huh

I started off real young in the backseat
Had dreams of probably being an athlete
Moms pray Sundays, still Pops was hard-head
You dabble in the drug trade, that's what she said
Now I'm my brother's keeper, Pop's bed shook
Product of the hood, fingerprint in book
In the hood on the corner when the vehicles pass
Sometimes enemies rolled and blast
Cash rules everything, hit your hood, rat
The hood took me on the blue rag and all that
Drive-by music, loud funky worm
Backseat shooter, now he high off shr'ms
Left turn, one time in some high beams
Couple shots, Fuck you!'s and some loud screams
Just another day, that's what it all seems
Nightmares get to waking 'cause bad dreams

Yeah, the hood got me under steel
Trap a nigga in, G-Loc, sure will
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah
Trap a nigga in, G-Loc, sure will

Like supernatural, riding round with Pac in the passenger seat
As a hologram and a black Chevy just like the like the black version of Dean and Sam, nigga
Rodney King died 6/17/12
In a swimming pool high as a kite, and drunk as hell
And that's the way I wanna go out, nigga, drunk in my pool
Better than getting shot by you bitch ass niggas when I'm on the move
I miss my real niggas, but it ain't no coming back for them
I just be living up in my ghetto tales as Iceberg Slim
I used to have hella stolen rims in my Momma's backyard
From jacking niggas at gunpoint with the gauge and going hard
They could've called me the Eastside gangsta neighborhood drug dealer
King Kong ain't got shit on the silver-silverback gorilla
Shit, tryna pitch birds dealing with stealers
We used to put pressure on niggas 'til those motherfuckers fill us
Mister Bossalini, keeping my end to the street
I gotta know when this bitch niggas is moving on me
(Blaow!)

Yeah, the hood got me under steel
Trap a nigga in, G-Loc, sure will
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah
Trap a nigga in, G-Loc, sure will
Trap a nigga in, G-Loc, sure will